


Perfect

by Broken_Record_3



Category: All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket
Genre: (the beginning of) mommy issues, Gen, Light Angst, Mrs. Mallahan is the main character but there's no tag for her, autistic moxie mallahan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Record_3/pseuds/Broken_Record_3
Summary: Mrs. Mallahan wants it all to be perfect. It isn't.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> (Mrs. Mallahan is Margaret, Mr. Mallahan is Lorne) 
> 
> just something i wrote rather quickly. this is a gift for someone, and you know who you are.

Margaret Mallahan looked down at the jewelry box in front of her and sighed. All of the pearls and emeralds and silver chains were lined up perfectly in the compartments, exactly how she had arranged them. She liked- no, needed for things to be organized, for everything to fit together. That’s how she wanted her life, perfectly organized and lined up. 

She looked into the vanity mirror in front of her. She looked good enough, her hair was arranged in neat curls that she had spent hours perfecting, her deep green dress fit her perfectly, and her makeup was as good as she’d ever done it. Everything, to others, looked perfect. 

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t perfect at all. Her hair was all frizzy in the back, her dress was pinned because it didn’t quite fit, and her eyeshadow was smudged on the left side. It wasn’t perfect, it just looked perfect, and although that was all she needed, it still left her with an empty void where there should have been something. 

A knock on the door briefly distracted her from her thoughts. Six knocks, precisely. She knew only one person who would knock that many times on her door. 

“Come in, Mox!” Margaret said, quickly putting a smile on her face. She was doing it for Moxie, she reminded herself, she was making it perfect for Moxie. 

Just as she had finished her sentence, Moxie came running across the room. She was seven now, and Margaret wondered where all the time had gone. It seemed she was a baby only yesterday, a baby who was much easier to care for and didn’t ask nearly as many questions about every. Single. Thing. 

“Mum mum mum! What’re you doing? Are you busy? You’re going to an event, right? Dad was telling me about how you and him are going somewhere and can you please tell me about it so I can writ-” 

“Darling, calm down. Come over here and sit down, I’ll answer all your questions.” 

Moxie sat down on her mother’s lap, kicking in a way that wasn’t exactly pleasant for Margaret’s shins. 

“To start, me and your father were invited to an event in town. It’s to celebrate a new aquarium opening.” 

“An aqu- aky- auc- Fish place! How neat!” Moxie stammered. Margaret found it cute how she still couldn't say some words, but it was getting a little concerning. Most kids could say “aquarium” at Moxie’s age, couldn’t they? 

Moxie’s eyes turned quickly over to the jewelry box. Margaret quickly grabbed her hands, keeping them away from the rows of jewelry she had tried so hard to keep organized. She couldn’t let them get messed up, she simply couldn’t. 

“Why can’t I touch it?” Moxie asked. She looked up at Margaret with her eyes, grey eyes, the same colour as her mother’s. Margaret couldn’t exactly say no now. 

“Here, just let me-” Margaret began. She dug her hand deep into the box until she had grabbed what she wanted. 

It was a hair clip, about half the size of Margaret’s hand, made of cold silver metal. It was shaped into a curled up and snarling Bombinating Beast, scales carved into the metal, and small blue gems for eyes. 

She pressed into Moxie’s palm. 

“This was mine when I was your age. My mother gave it to me, as her mother gave it to her, and so forth for as long as this family has been around. You’re a Mallahan, darling, and you should be proud of that. Your distantly-great grandmother founded this town.” 

Moxie was looking at the clip with wonder in her eyes. “Thank you, mum,” she whispered, tracing over the clip with her finger. 

“You’re very welcome, Moxie. Now go show that to your father, tell him to put it in your hair for you.” 

Moxie nodded and ran towards the door. Lorne would take care of her until they let the Knight girl babysit. She would have a fun night, everyone would tell her how wonderful she looked and how nice it was that she managed to be a mother and a journalist and a socialite all at once, and she’d smile and nod and lie and say that it wasn’t that difficult at all. Then she would wake up the next day and write an article about it for The Lighthouse, then go make sure Moxie didn’t tear the house up, and the cycle of work would repeat. 

It was hardly the perfect life, she thought. It was wonderful, a loving husband and a nice house and a daughter who looked up to her, a life some would kill for. 

But it wasn’t perfect. And since she was a young girl, perfect had been all she longed for. And maybe, someday, perfect would be what she got.


End file.
